


you're just like a storm

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Anduin's Beautiful Singing Voice, Crack Treated Seriously, Hip-Hop au, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Slice of Life, Trans Male Character, Unintended Transphobia, problematic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: Wrathion, seated on a swivel chair near the mixing console, tapped his chin three times before replying, “You need some feminine energy on this track.”“What the fuck for?” Garrosh snarled. The last thing he wanted was for some snot-nosed entitled brat to ruin his efforts!Wrathion rolled his eyes and released a pronounced sigh. With exaggerated hand gestures, he explained, “The song’s supposed to be sensual, sexual, yes? But your voice is too...violent. You need something to counterbalance it to get the mood just right.”Or,Anduin helps Garrosh and Wrathion complete a song.
Relationships: Garrosh Hellscream/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	you're just like a storm

**Author's Note:**

> I did not intend to post this, but as I was organizing and cleaning out my files, I decided to throw this thing on ao3. It's not meant to be taken _too_ seriously. I might add to this at a later date. 
> 
> By the way, the inspiration for this is the second half of [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_ljNRC8qqM).

Once the raw mix stopped reverberating around the control room, Garrosh took note of the minute curl that came over Wrathion’s lips. Although subtle, after working with the music producer for _years,_ Garrosh could read Wrathion’s microexpressions as if they were plastered on a damned billboard. The whelp’s displeasure over their current project might as well have been advertised by a neon sign. And it only meant one thing: a late night of arguing, editing and tweaking. 

_Might as well get this over with._

Leaning back against the control room’s leather couch, Garrosh barked, “What?” 

Wrathion, seated on a swivel chair near the mixing console, tapped his chin three times before replying, “You need some feminine energy on this track.” 

“What the fuck for?” Garrosh snarled. The last thing he wanted was for some snot-nosed entitled brat to ruin his efforts! 

Wrathion rolled his eyes and released a pronounced sigh. With exaggerated hand gestures, he explained, “The song’s supposed to be sensual, sexual, yes? But your voice is too... _violent._ You need something to counterbalance it to get the mood just right.” 

Typically, Garrosh wouldn’t treat the word “violent” as a critique when it came to his vocalizations. By design, his raps were strong, harsh, and heavy, like a swinging battle-ax. He wrote music to go to battle to - metaphorically speaking. 

But Wrathion had a point; the track’s intention did not match the hip-hop artist’s usual range. In order to make the song work, Garrosh either had to give it up to another musician or find a way to fix it. 

Garrosh rubbed his tattooed chin. “Do you have anyone in mind? 

* * *

They spent a small _eternity_ discussing available female vocalists, only to settle on no one due to Garrosh’s “high level of standards”. (Although Wrathion referred to it as an “inability to relinquish control”.) Eventually, exhausted and impatient, the two artists came to a compromise: test out some unknown talent. 

Garrosh watched as Wrathion’s expression melted while speaking to their “perfect solution” on the phone. The dragon’s soft smile and sparkling eyes exposed a unique connection between these two that piqued the orc’s curiosity. The dragon had quite the reputation for never allowing a hoe to linger too long at his side. Yet, this siren managed to take hold of Wrathion’s heartstrings. Garrosh _had_ to meet her. _Maybe test out that golden snatch myself._

Less than a half-an-hour after Wrathion ended his call, there was a knock on the control room’s door. 

Wrathion shot out of his chair and yanked the door open to reveal a blonde young human _man_. 

Garrosh schooled his features into an expression that would not betray his utter _bemusement_ . Not only was this person a _boy_ , he also lacked any of the fashion sense Garrosh had come to associate with _his type_ . His short ponytail, clear-framed glasses, grey cable-knit sweater, and pair of loose jeans were more appropriate for a run to the hobby store than a trip to a music studio. What did Wrathion _see_ in this grandma-toting bitch? 

Wrathion slung a single arm around the kid’s shoulders. The boy returned the gesture of affection with an awkward pat on the back. Then, they turned their attention to Garrosh, who took a puff from the cigar he had lit the moment prior. 

Wrathion, once again, rolled his red eyes. “Anduin, this is Garrosh. Garrosh, Anduin.” 

_Anduin_ approached, holding his hand out for Garrosh to, presumably, take. Bright grin stretching his face, he chirped, “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir. I’m a big fan.” 

Garrosh blew a smoke ring in Anduin’s direction. The boy pursed his lips and brought his hand back to his side. Though, to his credit, Anduin didn’t deflate or cower. _The boy’s got some balls._

Wrathion, too, did not appear perturbed by the exchange. If anything, his sharp smirk suggested a hint of amusement. A snort came out of his nostrils. “Alright, Andy, why don’t you head into the booth? Let me talk to Garrosh here.” 

Without another word, Anduin made his way into the isolation booth. Its door locked with a loud click. 

Through the soundproof glass, Garrosh observed how comfortable Anduin seemed in the padded chamber. He had little trouble placing the bulky studio headphones properly over his tiny ears. And for “unknown talent”, the kid knew the appropriate distance between himself and the mic. 

Wrathion plopped back down on his chair and spun toward the console, “You’re gonna shit a brick when you hear him.”

“You’re fucking nuts if you think _he’s_ making it onto the track,” Garrosh spat. “I don’t care how _feminine_ he is while he sucks your dick.” 

Wrathion said nothing in response. Instead, he pressed a button to activate the two-way speaker between the control room and the booth. “You ready, Andy?”  
  
Anduin released a long exhale. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he responded with an underwhelming amount of enthusiasm. 

_Ah, so even_ he _doesn’t want to be here._  
  
Wrathion didn’t put too much thought into Anduin’s sarcasm if the fingers flying over his panel were any indication. The mix began. 

Garrosh quirked a pierced eyebrow. “What’s he going to do? Did you give him any direction?” 

“He’s going to improvise. Just listen.” 

_Great._ Garrosh took another drag from his cigar. This would be a gigantic waste of his time. 

Anduin closed his eyes and swayed to the rhythm of the song. His hand clapped against his outer thigh in time with the beat. Then, as Garrosh’s vocals began, a hum that could have been mistaken for the start of a pleasured whine rumbled from Anduin’s delicate throat. 

Garrosh released the smoke sitting in his lungs. 

As the track continued, Anduin would toss his head from side to side while peppering melodic murmurings of, “Yes”, “Don’t stop”, “Just like that, papi” at the perfect moments. Each lilting phrase spilling from his cherry mouth grew more and more erotic. And as time went on, his suggestive intonations strayed further from the innocence Anduin seemed to personify, somehow making the affair that much more filthy. 

There was something utterly _vulgar_ about someone so chaste displaying such debauchery. Unbidden, Garrosh wondered what it would be like if _he_ pawed beneath the boy’s frumpy clothes, taking apart his chastity bit by bit. Would he sing like that? Make those dulcet moans? Spread his thighs and beg so beautifully for more? 

Anduin harmonized a set of cries, imitating the crescendo of sexual bliss in tune. At the same time, his free hand roamed up his abdomen, his chest, and to the back of his neck to play with the stray strands of hair there. 

Garrosh’s cock strained against the zipper of his jeans as he imagined the blonde as a delicate female with tiny breasts and a pretty pink pussy. _Spirits_ , he would fuck her so hard, pounding that tight little cunt until she gushed all over his cock. She would scratch, and bite, and writhe, and scream his name, overwhelmed by the new sensations he bestowed upon her. Those tight walls hugging his enormous girth would clench, milking him of his seed. In time, she would plead to be knocked up, sobbing, “ _Yes! Please! Wanna have your baby!_ ” 

“So what do you think?” Wrathion asked, forcing him from his reverie. 

Into a glass tray, Garrosh flicked off the long column of ash at the end of his cigar. “Who the fuck is he?” he asked. 

Wrathion grinned. “Oh come on, I thought you’d have recognized him by now. He’s Anduin _Wrynn_.” 

“As in Varian _Wrynn’s_ kid?” Garrosh gasped out. He could only imagine the gaping expression upon his face at the mention of the man he had feuded with for years. 

“The one and only.” 

Garrosh’s lips straightened into a thoughtful line. “Always thought he had a daughter. Didn’t know he had a son, too.” 

Wrathion shifted. “He only has the one kid.” 

That couldn’t be right. He distinctly remembered seeing the girl accompanying her father at various award ceremonies over the years. In a fascinating way, her subdued mode of dress had stayed with him long after she stopped attending those events. Despite being born into wealth and privilege, she seemed to possess little inclination to flaunt, impressing the improvised child that still resided in his soul. According to his colleagues, she retained a humble and kind personality to match, charming every member of their industry. It caused most to wonder whatever happened to her - oh, _Oh._

“That’s her!” Garrosh cried. 

“Him,” Wrathion corrected with a sour guise. 

“Him, yeah, sorry,” Garrosh mumbled. “What happened to him?” 

Wrathion shrugged. “Anduin never wanted to be in the business, so he went into medicine. He’s a pediatrician now, and does these projects on the side.” 

“A baby doctor, huh?” Garrosh chuckled. _That sounds about right_. 

Regardless, that couldn’t be where the story ended. No. It would be a travesty to waste such a gorgeous doll on needless obscurity. If anyone deserved to be famous, to be praised, to be fawned over and admired, it was Anduin Wrynn. 

Anduin bounced from heel to heel in the booth, awaiting further instruction. 

_Hmm…I could use him._ Garrosh took another drag of his cigar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated!


End file.
